


The Memory of Sun

by Nerd_division



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 004 is also a woman, 00Q - Freeform, I really love moneypenny, It starts angsty, M/M, R is a woman, but theres cats so, canon? What's canon?, it will appear in my writing, it's very angsty, no beta we die like vesper, sorry - Freeform, they are totally gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_division/pseuds/Nerd_division
Summary: When James Bond disappeared he left a postcard and a tin of early grey in Q's mailbox.Even after he was pronounced dead Q knew he was alive.Now three years later he has a new responsible 007, another cat, and a hole he could never stop filling.Until James comes back.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	1. 1: Intro

Q knew James Bond was alive.

After his last mission, James disappeared, just gone. His smart blood didn't show up on the map, his radio transmitter was left behind, no trackers worked. After six months of no contact he was pronounced dead. M repurposed the old M's obituary and seven months later a new 007 was appointed.

This double 0, Lance, was young. He was young and smart and followed the rules. He almost never slept with people on the job (never with the enemy), caused minimum collateral damage (as minimum has could be said with a double 0 agent), and brought most equipment back in one piece.

Q couldn't stand them.

Moneypenny called him and they went to a bar and got blackout drunk as quick as they could. Moneypenny remembered a little, Q couldn't say the same.

Two months after Bond disappeared Q received a postcard in the mail along with a package of earl grey tea. The tea had no receipt and the postcard no stamp. Bond had to have been to Q's apartment.

Moneypenny was informed immediately afterward, and Q never stopped believing James was alive. He fought the obituary, denied it, and a year after it was published, he stopped fighting.

James Bond had been gone for three years. And then he was back.


	2. Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Lance the agent who has assumed the position of James' role as 007.

"Quartermaster?" Lance refrained from poking the man's shoulder. On his first day Lance heard a pretty woman, he later found her name was Moneypenny, call him Q. When Lance greeted the Quartermaster with that name he pursed his lips looked away and curtly corrected him. Quartermaster, He had said, you may call me Quartermaster.

"What is it, Agent?" Q rarely called him 007. He was Lance on a good day, Agent on others. Today was an other. Lance knew he was teetering on the edge of pissing Q off, so he hoped to tread carefully.

"I was wondering if you needed anything. From my last mission I mean. R told me to consult you about the mission report."

Q twitched, he was uncomfortable, he always covered his emotions when disagreeable. Not this time. "Where's the mission phone you received? I need to repair it."

Lance brought his hand to his breast pocket where it was held. "It's not broken."

"I doubt that. Give, it."

Lance handed him the phone and Q frowned. Lance was right, it was unscathed. "Do you not," Q stopped and restarted, "do you not, fall? Or get shot ever? How do you always bring back tech unharmed? It- it's just perfectly fine!"

The agent could tell that the man was joking. Slightly. Q was truly dumbfounded, most other agents returned smashed bits. Lance prided himself on keeping all the gadgets safe.

When Lance returned from his first mission Q blamed him of switching out the gadgets to gain 'brownie points' Lance didn't know the term.

Lance gestured to his arm resting in a sling. "Oh no, I fall." He nodded to punctuate his point.

His curiosity did not want to tread as carefully.

"I saw blueprints, on your desk," He paused a moment, the Quartermaster said nothing. "for an exploding pen, I think-" He was abruptly cut off when Q stood up.

"No, Lance. I think you are quite mistaken."

"But I swear they-"

"It's not for _you_." Lance could tell he'd leapt off the knife's edge to the Pissing off the Quartermaster side. But the way he bit out the _you_. There was something behind it, it wasn't just for a different agent, it was private.

Lance heard whispers of the previous 007. _He was a loose cannon, that one,_ they'd say to each other over lunch, _dangerous, deadly! But he was effective._ Other times he'd hear about why he left, _in love with a pretty girl,_ or _Left to carry out a personal bounty_ or _killed a fellow agent, then MI6 had him killed by another agent!_

Lance wouldn't give merit to any of the statements unless they came from someone close to the previous double 0, moneypenny or 006. But he still thought about all he heard. It's hard not to think of the person who used to wear the shoes he was trying to fill.

The new 007 pulled up his predecessors file multiple times. Almost everything was redacted. All he could figure was that he had been very successful, no one has that high a respect and fear and that empty a file unless they worked the highest cases. Lance suspected few had access to his real files.

"I'm late." it was curt and left Q's mouth bitter. He turned and walked quickly away.

Lance took the hint and went to get some tea. He grabbed a mug and turned on the electric kettle. He felt as if he'd stand there forever, watching it heat until the blue light finally clicked off. He poured carefully, remembering burning his hand four weeks prior.

"What was that?" R asked inquisitively. Her heels click on the tile haphazardly, she doesn't like the heels.

"I think I hit a nerve."

R snorted before regaining her composure. "That you did. What did you say?"

"I brought up an exploding pen." While his sentence was a statement, his voice got higher at the end, implying a question. He himself did not know if it was a question. When R didn't immediately respond he continued. "I saw the blueprints on his desk."

R set down her mug and the tea bag. "It's ah, the- your predecessor. It has to do with him. I wouldn't push him," R turned to face the new 007. "they were close, then he disappeared. No word to anyone."

Lance stared at her. "You said he disappeared?" He left no room to answer. "His file says he died. Three years ago. Died of fatal injuries, there's a report, using smart blood, they show his vital signs drop."

R turned back to her tea. She set the bag in the mug and tied the string around the handle so that the water didn't pull the string into the mug. Her hand was shaking while she poured the water. "The report lied, it's true he never reported back, and it's true he sustained injury. But the smart blood report, I created that. He somehow disconnected his smart blood and after six months, we lost hope. Under orders I forged the report, and everyone thinks he's dead."

This stunned the agent. R left heels clicking away. Eventually Lance's tea went cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if you find an error. I wrote the chapter quickly and so there will probably be errors. Comments fuel my life! They will encourage me to write more!


	3. R

R spilt tea on her hand while walking out. She hoped Lance would not notice. He did not.

More than two years ago M came to her desk. _Q won’t do it._ He said, _He’s too loyal, too attached. It’s weak._ R looked up at him. It was the second time they had spoken, the first being when she advocated to Q’s innocence. _What are you asking of me, sir?_ She replied, short, professional. They were like that, R out of efficiency and lack of interest in social interaction, and M just not caring.

_I want you to kill him. Fake the reports, show that his vitals dropped. Make it believable, this is 007 we’re talking about._

R said nothing. She did not know the agent like Q did. She had met him a few times, even made conversation, she could describe him, what he was like. But she could never claim to know him. All spies were like that, they had a surface, hard as steel painted with the perfect portrait.

Her first meeting with 007 had been abrupt. While getting tea she heard someone enter the break room. In an effort to not be awkward she attempted small talk with a quip about 006’s terrible coffee. He laughed and she froze, she recognized his voice, the infamous 007. _Alec_ , he referred to 006 by name, _picked that up when we were in Greece. Got a taste for their coffee, unfortunately I did too._ R was confused about his soft demeanor, if this was his steel, what was he hiding?

 _R,_ M all but barked the words, pulling her from the memory. _That’s an order._

R didn’t think he was weak, she thought he was strong, he hadn’t given up hope. That night after Q had gone home and none of the boffins look alive enough to watch her she faked the report.

She mentioned it to no one but there was a copy of the report on M’s desk and M then forwarded it to the higher-ups, the politicians. Q knew it was a fake, so did Moneypenny. R didn’t know how Q figured out she made the report, but she assumed he knew everything that happened in the division, it was safer that way. He didn’t speak to her for a month.

Telling Lance brought it all back up. Over two years, but it felt like days. The hot tea on her hand cooled quickly. R set it down and pulled up 006’s mission reports. Alec had gone off the rails when 007 disappeared. Taking missions in familiar places, Greece, Italy, Turkey, Japan. Anywhere he thought 007 might return. He never found him. M had been lenient, for a few months. And a for a few months after 007 was pronounced dead, but his compassion had come to an end.

If Alec didn’t step up his game, he was going to be retired, forcefully. MI6 spared no expense when dealing with 00 agents. They had detailed protocols and the people to carry them out. R had altered reports slightly to keep 006 in M, and the politicians, favor. She could tell 006 knew. She didn’t say anything and he didn’t mention it, but sometimes he left a book on her desk, or a trinket from missions, or made her a cup of his horrid coffee.

She never drank the coffee, she could get the caffeine from a cup of earl grey or black tea. But she appreciated the sentiment.

When she had sat down she kicked off her heels, placing her feet on the stiff carpet. When Q first drafted the blueprints for the pen he consulted R, it was something that helped them get to know each other. They went to lunch one day and started conversation with explosives and triggers, to battle tactics, to philosophy (they quickly decided that philosophy was to mercurial for their tastes), to theoretical physics (Q ranted), to nuclear physics (R ranted).

She knew Q had prototypes; he was developing a final one when 007 disappeared. He stopped building them.

No wonder Lance pissed him off when he brought it up.

Q’s chair rolled to a stop at her desk. “How does a kid like that end up here?”

R was a little shaken, remembering everything made her forget that Q had forgiven her. “He’s nearly your age, and he’s hardly a kid.”

“But for a 00. So much pain, you’d wish he lived a little longer before he was damaged enough to have a license to kill.”

“People who become 00’s” R was going to get philosophical, mushy, the way people like R and Q didn’t like to get. “People who become 00’s don’t just wake up and have a bad day, they’re built that way. From young. Some could say since birth.” Q looked to leave, and R was no person to stop him, but she spoke anyway. “don’t hate him, it’s not like he wished to take, take his post.”

His. The way she said his, she meant James, 007, Q’s friend, she couldn’t bring herself to say his name. Q sighed and left. This was the normal now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments fuel my existence! I love how the entirety of the fandom has accepted that R is a woman. I love the idea of Q making an exploding pen for Bond, just *chef's kiss* perfect.


	4. James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it! So excited to finally have 007 make an appearance.

M did not know James Bond. M thought sophistication came from indifference, and in his indifference he decided that discovering a persons character was insignificant. This was not working to his advantage, but he did not know that.

M decided after six months Bond was not coming back, perhaps he didn't remember their first encounter, or perhaps he did and thought that this time Bond had taken his advice and stayed dead. So when he entered his dark office three years after Bond's disappearance he did not first think that the figure in the chair was Bond.

"You don't have to press the security button, Mallory." M chuckled, nervously.

"You still couldn't stay dead, could you James."

"It's 007." Said the agent.

"It's M."

M still couldn’t see Bond’s face, so he moved to sit at his desk. He turned on only his desk lamp, shedding minimal light. He got comfortable, setting his briefcase down, loosening his tie. Bond watched, gone too long from MI6, from England altogether, to remember exactly how things worked. He would assess the building. M made a mental note to send a memo to security, Bond would explore every room until satisfied.

M believed that he and Bond where in a contest to see who would break and ask the first question, Bond believed he was studying M. In their views they were the winners. “Aren’t you going to ask why I left? Aren’t you curious?”

“No.” M lied. “But, I’d like you to know why you came back.” M knew that this sentence was betraying, but he was still feeling the win of denying Bonds expectation.

“Couldn’t stay away from the action, a license to kill is hard to pass up.” It was a blatant lie, and they both knew it. Most of their conversations were built on lies. Bond knew government itself was built on lies, especially MI6. M thought otherwise, he thought it was the spies who were built on lies.

They continued their games, staring. A slight smile played on Bonds lips, a mask. M just frowned. Moneypenny knocked on the door and Bond’s mask broke. Only for a second, but M saw it. He looked at M not with a look of pleading and desperation, but with a promise. Seeing Eve now, like this, would not end well. Despite her current position as a secretary, she was just as dangerous.

“M, sir, I have your files?”

M gave a nod to the agent. “Not now Moneypenny!” M never bothered with the fake cheer some people did. “I’ll collect them myself, just set them on your desk!”

The agent gave a nod of appreciation. M turned to his computer, he could see 007 in his peripheral vision, but paid no close attention. Bond listened at the door for Moneypenny to leave, he had chosen this time because he knew Eve would go get tea, he had not considered her dropping off the files. This fact disappointed him, he thought he was losing his ability.

“Don’t expect a mission so soon, 007. You’ll have to pass all the exams; I am not my predecessor.”

"Try and have a good day, M. You can try anything once."

James knew he had to face people. Moneypenny, Alec, and Q. He wasn't prepared to face Q. He had never admitted to himself that he left because of Q. His last mission had shown him that he had people he wanted to protect, to live for. He couldn't handle that idea, the only way to truly protect them, he had distance himself. 

He'd spent three years avoiding this. He could for a few more hours.


	5. reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q reunite, finally.

007 drove to Q's apartment in the rain, it hit his windshield violently and scattered the lights and blurred all the street. He could hear the tires run through puddles and see the fans of water splashed onto the sidewalk. He was hoping to get there sooner rather than later because his confidence was diminishing.

He parked as close as he could and ran the rest of the way to avoid the rain. His plan failed and by the time he made it to Q's apartment door he was trailing puddles. He stood in front and almost walked away twice.

The moment his fist hit the door he wanted to run. He had faced criminals, murderers, people whose lack of morals had cased genocide, but nothing compared to the thought of his friends rejecting him. They had the right, he left them for three years. But this was a situation he couldn't fight through.

Q opened the door with an unfamiliar cat in one arm and a book in the other. His face drained of color and the book tumbled to the floor.

"Hello, Q." It was quieter than 007 would have liked, quiet and soft and weak.

"Thank you for the tea." Q could not think of a better thing to say, and James couldn't think of a response to such a greeting.

They stood, silent, staring. It seemed to be a pattern of when people see you come back from the dead. Then James did something unexpected, he hugged Q. Pulled his arms around him and tried not the squish the squirming cat in between them.

Q pushed James chest, "No," he said, handing the cat to the agent, not knowing what to do James accepted it. "No I'm not doing this. You- I." Q was walking farther into the apartment. "Why are you _here_?"

"I needed to see you, I thought you may have needed to see me too." Bond felt pathetic saying this, because he realized there was more to this.

"You're not allowed to choose that!" Q's voice was raising, he was getting antsy. "I was _okay_. I was _healing_. I was starting to make _peace_ with your decision." Q pointed at Bond when he said _your_.

"Q, I-." He stopped talking, realizing he didn't have any words left to say. All the good ones were gone. "I'm back, I'm staying." James had realized he left for Q. He left not because he couldn't handle the thought of endangering him, of corrupting him, of loving him, but because he couldn't face the thought of Q not loving him back.

" _Why,_ James?" Q sounded defeated.

James knew he had left because of Q, so maybe he could stay because of Q too. And so he thought of Q, _I was starting to make peace with_ your _decision_. And he knew Q couldn't handle Bond shoving himself back into his life and immediately complicating everything that had happened. He let the cat leap gracefully to the ground.

"I don't know." He knew it was a lie and hoped so ardently that Q didn't.

Q looked away. "You're soaking the carpet. I'll get you a towel."

He walked away and returned with a fluffy towel and walked past Bond to the kitchen. He returned to find Bond in the same position staring at him. He handed him a warm cup of tea and sat on the couch. "I'll make up the couch as a bed, I doubt you'll want to squat in a safe house."

James sat down setting his coat on the couch arm beside him. Q pulled his laptop on to his legs and starting typing up a new report. Eventually the television was turned on and eventually Q fell asleep on James shoulder.

Bond was unaware of this fact for almost an hour. He looked over at Q's face, lit by the changing lights of the television and the discarded laptop at his side. His face looked soft, calm. No sarcastic frown or wicked grin, just Q completely at rest. He didn't have the heart to wake him and instead carried him to the bedroom. He laid him down and pulled up the blankets. Once satisfied he plugged in Q's phone, knowing how unhappy he would be with an uncharged phone in the morning. Bond traced Q's previous steps to a small linen closet where he found a small quilt to cover himself as he drifted to sleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I thought this would be happier than it was but, sorry. Anyway, plot is picking up! Things are developing! Yay! Comments fuel my life, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.


	6. Lovelace

Bond awoke at 4 am to his watch beeping. It was nothing special, it didn't record audio or explode, and it certainly wasn't a rolex. he bought it at a small road stop in Juarez Mexico to work as a portable alarm clock, he never stayed anywhere long enough to use a real one. He'd left behind the one from the Q branch for fear of tracking technology.

He pulled clothes from his duffle, exercise clothes for training. He layered them, long sleeves and pants, for fear of yesterday's weather. Passing the psych eval would be easy, he learned what to say long ago, and no one would fail him. Not even M would fail him. He needed Bond more than he'd ever admit.

The physical was never easy, Bond had stayed in shape but training could clear his head. He left a note for Q, not wanting him to think he's run off again.

 _Q,_ it read, _Off for a run, be back soon._ A little farther down he wrote: _P.S. I fed the new cat. Its eyes said it was starving, even if the belly says otherwise. -J.B._

It was true, the new cat, whom Bond was unfamiliar, had pulled itself oss of James' now hairy coat and sat next to her bowl. It gave a loud noise which sounded vaguely of something dying, and not wishing to wake Q he filled its bowl.

On his run he passed the Aston Martin to make sure it was safe. He checked the locks and the glove compartment, making sure everything was in order. Q would have called it obsessive, and maybe it was, but he couldn't just ignore a car as pretty as the Aston Martin was.

He continued the run, now thankful for the cool air. As the air left his lungs it created fog that quickly dissipated behind him, he felt the cool air brush his burning muscles. He thought of Turing, Q's mild mannered black cat, Bond thought he'd heard Q say something along the lines of "Bombay" in regards to the breed, but he'd never know for sure. And Rincewind, who was Bond's favorite because he was silly. He liked to sit on counters, and he usually fell off. He was a statistical error in the myth of cats landing on their feet.

He wondered about the new cat. It was fat and lazy and presumably liked to get in the way. He wondered when Q adopted the cat, if it was right after he left, or more recently. This, of course, made him feel worse and so he ran faster.

Bond's training had faltered. He knew when to stop thinking of the people, of the actions, just focus on the mission. It had been too long since he'd had a mission, a purpose, a direction. And so the one bad thought opened the floodgates, he thought of M's indifference and his avoiding Moneypenny, and Q's misled thoughts. So he ran faster.

How could Q be so stupid? How could someone so intelligence be so _stupid_? Surely Q knew that those who get close to him were broken or hurt.

Or dead.

He ran faster. He ran and he ran until he couldn't breathe and his face seemed to swell and he had to catch the brick wall to stop himself from going until he collapsed. He stood there now with both hands on the wall pondering his situation. It had been three years but it had seemed only yesterday he stole the Aston Martin.

From there he drove to a Tesco, the one closest to Q's flat, so that it wouldn't give away what direction he was heading, and bought the postcard for Q. He saw the tea while in checkout and bought it as well. He only signed the postcard with a J.B. no other words. He knew nothing he could write could mean anything important. At least not important enough.

He slumped against the wall, his run had taken a toll. He looked out to the road, cars passing by with people who were all liminal. Just passing from one place to another. He wondered if in their state of transport they really existed. If they really had sentience or were just going through the motions to get to their destination.

The more he thought of it the more it made no sense. He jogged back, keeping a pace that wouldn't burn through his lungs. He was disappointed with the outcome of the run, it had rather filled his head. With questions of lost time and excuses for more of it.

When he returned to the flat Q was gone. A note sat next to his. _Bond, off to MI6 early. good luck with training._ And in regard to Bond's postscript, Q left one as well. _P.S. The new cat is Lovelace._

Bond decided to head to MI6 as well. Use the training facilities and acquaint himself with the others. He decided to make himself presentable, no use in making introductions in joggers. He brought the exercise clothes with him in the duffle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moneypenny will be in the next chapter! Yay! I am so excited to write for her. I may or may not be absolutely in love with her. And as always, I treasure comments!


	7. Lovelace pt. 2

Bond would not admit he was nervous. But his shaking hands and shallow breaths betrayed him. He had been gone three years and didn’t know how well he’d be received. He knew MI6 would be in a whirl of gossip, especially Q’s boffins. They were always like that with 00 agents. The boffins would get nervous and excited, the agents disgruntled, and the politicians would sigh and think of the paperwork.

He walked right into Moneypenny’s office first thing. Rip off the bandage. “Good morning, Eve.”

Moneypenny froze, looking at papers. She slowly put down the papers and rose her head to look at Bond. _You,_ was all she could think to say for the time. She stood, looking at Bond leaning on the doorway. She walked up and enveloped him into a hug so tight he thought she might crush a rib.

“Eve,” He said with what air he could gather. “Moneypenny.”

She finally let go and he tried not to make a show of his gulp of air. “You’re alive.” she seemed to be trying to convince Bond, for she was certain already.

“Yes.”

“It’s been three years.”

“Yes.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too Eve.”

She sighed and went back to her desk, Bond sat across from her. “I suppose you have seen Q,” she left him no time to answer. “You know, leaving him, that was mean. Cruel. Real duffer you are.” Bond tried to squeeze in a word, but he could barely get a syllable in before she started again. “You like him, James. That’s no way to treat someone you like.”

The way she said _like_ made Bond think the wasn’t meaning _care for_ or _friends._ He did not think he liked what she was implying. No, he knew he didn’t. This is why he left, this is why he ran. He was getting that urge, the urge to run out of the room and not turn back.

“M already knows, I’m retaking the exam soon.” Just before he stepped out the doorway, he called over his shoulder, “Q knows.”

James wonders to Q branch, everything was eerily the same. He grabbed the nearest office chair and rolled it Q’s desk sitting in it backwards. “Lovelace,” Q jumps in his chair, “sounds like a strippers name.”

“Dear god, 007, could you refrain from sneaking up on me, just because you are trained in stealth doesn’t mean you have to use it. And I’ll have you know that Ada Lovelace is considered the first computer programmer, she lived in the nineteenth century. Her father was Lord Byron, you know, the friend of Mary Shelly, he was in the Villa Diodati with Shelly when she wrote Frankenstein.” Q stopped to take a breath.

“Sorry, R is the only person I have been able to rant to like that.” Q looked awkward, but Bond was simply smiling at him. That kind of smile you hold when entering a room you haven’t in years, it still holds that same smell and the same light filters through the windows.

Q drinks his tea. “I saw Moneypenny,” Says Bond. “I’m going to go train now, have to pass the physical. You should be my exercise partner! Your musings can keep me company and exercise is always healthy.”

Q snorts. “One, the phrase ‘exercise partner’ coming from you usually means something different. Two, you expect me to keep up with you in an exercise?”

Bond shrugs.

“I like re-watching Doctor Who or The IT Crowd while setting up code. I don’t even have a gym membership I pretend to use.”

Bond starts walking away. “The offer stands, Q!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was kind of a filler chapter and its short, sorry. But next chapter is where we start to pick up speed! And you know, we love seeing Moneypenny ship 00q with all her heart. Also the exercise part is based on my friend, he is super tall and buff and does weightlifting, he has offered to be my exercise partner even though I, quite like Q, would prefer a computer and The IT Crowd.


	8. L'épéiste

_5:00, 12, November_

Q wakes up to his alarm crackling out the BBC one station. it croaked out a _98.5 FM_ before playing another song. Knowing the sound would wake him he left it on.

He takes a quick shower which he knew he'd regret, his hair would poof right up. He takes a cardigan off a hanger, making sure the shoulders aren't stretched. He likes cardigans, they provided warmth, a protective layer, and looked quite spiffy. And he'd use that word if asked, spiffy.

_5:43, 12, November_

Q arrives to work and ducks through the rain to get to the office. Walking briskly around a corner he nearly walks into Gavin Fulton's chest. Fulton was considered one of Q's boffins, though people never guessed his occupation on first acquaintance. Gavin Fulton was tall, 6'3, and compare to Q's 5'9, he was very tall. He was quiet, and did breathing exercises when he got nervous. Q thought he was nice.

Q spoke after taking a step back and craning his neck to see Fulton's face. "Morning Fulton, any news on the Ephesus mission, how's 002?"

Fulon seemed startled at the near collision, Q respected that his oxen size didn't impede his ability to be timid. "No, nothing yet Q. Avi-" he caught himself before using her name. "002 crushed her comm system last night, said I was 'backseat agent-ing.'"

Q snorts at Fultons confused expression to the agents remark. "How's 007, I meant Lance. I know the other one is back, everyone knows he's back, it's big news. I mean it's been a week."

Q remembers his conversation with Lance, he was just so pressured, like the walls around him were starting to move in, eventually crushing his lungs. "I think he's fine, gearing up for a mission in Istanbul, maybe he'll hear news of 002."

_9:01, 12, November_

The office was well stocked today, and the buzz of Bond's return was not lost on them. Q was standing at a table with parts strewn about. A new gadget for the double-ohs, a thermal sniper sight and hopefully a pen that cold transmit morse code. There were files, washers, bolts, wires, circuits, and the biggest pile of screwdrivers you'd ever see.

He was finalizing the attachment, it was having issues staying secure, of a thermal vision sniper sight for Lance's mission in Istanbul.

A fresh cup of mint herbal tea was cooling on the lighted table. He was trying to wean himself off the caffeine intake that came with multiple cups of Earl Grey tea. He picked up a bottle of oil and nearly drank it before seeing the mug still sitting on the table.

R passed him with a nod and nothing else, Q assumed she was nervous about 007's return, she did fake the reports he could lash out. Q knew he wouldn't but R didn't know him like he did.

Q's computer beeped with a message, from a double-oh. He walked to it and clicked on the comm system, it read 007.

"Hello, Lance."

"Are you that close to my successor? Or are you avoiding his codename?" Bond, not Lance, asked through the comm with ragged breaths.

"My god, 007, where are you? How did you get a comm?" Q was frantically smashing his keys in a futile attempt to locate the agent.

"I need you to run a name," He huffed a breath and Q thought he heard a car door slam. "L'épéiste under the french records."

"The swordsman, interesting alias. Who are they?"

He could hear tires on the street, not speeding, that meant Bond was safe. "Big time arms dealer, she owns the weapons, and the people who use them. Her business is selling out assassins, she knows who's dying, how, when, where. People in russia called her _predvestnik smerti._ " Q was baffled by his perfect Russian accent, he assumed it was perfect, he didn't know any Russian. "The Harbinger of Death."

"Bond," Q said, slowly, unsure.

"What is it, Q."

"I don't have the clearance level, they're locking me out. It looks like a complete file, but there's nest encryption, another layer of information, I didn't make these firewalls." He was typing furiously, he logged in again, tried a new monitor, a new computer.

"Ask M, I'm sure he'll grant you clearance."

"No fun in that, rather ask for forgiveness than permission." Q was already hacking into the encryption with all he could. "I'm using a 'scan for open ports' technique."

A sigh was heard from the comm and Q heard a turn signal. "In english, Q."

"Computers have ports, http is port eighty, https 443, smtp is 25. smtp is the email port its usually left open on mistake, I made sure they weren't, which means I can open them easily," Q thought about how to word it better. "On buildings they always have a door they leave open, for smoke breaks or quick exits, I'm just poking the system to see which port it left open."

"I like the way you think Q, your intelligence almost matches your looks."

Q chokes on his tea. He wasn't used to Bond flirting with him again, it was like the beginning before Bond started pulling away, before he left. Q had to act normal, _be witty_ he thought.

"I cannot say if that is a compliment to my appearance or an insult to my intellect."

"Guess." Q could hear the smirk in his voice, that slight point to his mouth, the raised eyebrow. Q was overwhelmed by the sense of being out of time, as if it was before Bond left, as if Q was the only person in the room who knew this would end in disaster. He hoped he could forget it.

"I missed you, 007."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the time stamps give away that something is going to happen. There was a time skip, of about a week from chapter 7 to chapter 8, if you couldn't tell.


	9. Jacque

Bond didn’t know how to  respond; he’d spent three years running around the world just to avoid this. “I missed you too, Q. How is the reading coming along?”

“Be patient,  the files are opening, I’ll read them. I told you It’d be better to ask for  forgiveness .” Q  skimmed through the files for any pertinent information.

“Uh, she prefers to stay in  France or Switzerland. Big arms dealer , only petty charges have stuck, nothing serious. She’s a real chancer, but she’s got  lawyers to rival  th e MI6 legal team , they’ve beaten every charge.”

“Q, I am not interested in her  vacation time, where is she?” Q heard Bond shift in the car,  an uncomfortable grunt followed.

“Bond are you hurt?” Q  kept his voice level, but there was uncertainty laced between his words.

“No.” Bond lied , “ What else is there?”

“I’ll see you when you get here, you might as well tell me I could help .”

Bond grunts, another uncomfortable shift. “My elbow, it looks weird, and hurts a lot.”

“Did you land on your hand? Take me through the fight.” Q reaches for a notepad , he was no doctor, but he liked medical science and had taken some classes.

As Bond  drove, he recounted the details . He entered the office building where the last message was sent from Jacque  Noel, one of  L'épéiste ’ right hand men. He was supposed to capture the target, and if unable , place a tracking device.

_ Do not kill the target, 007.  _ M  had stressed .  _ If we are going to stick anything on  _ _ L'épéiste _ _ we need him alive. _

The people in the office didn’t blink when they saw him. He wore a business casual suit, grey unbuttoned jacket and simple  blue tie to compliment the cool colors. The companies pin on his lapel. The pin was not hard to come by, they weren’t covert.  Taking cover as an Airline was a smart way to cover up arms dealing and the transportation of assassins. Smart, but obvious, easily infiltrated.

He flashed charming smiles to some, stern nods to others, assessing their characters as he passed. _ Excuse me,  _ he’d said to a young assistant, a smirk on his lips, leaning amiably on the reception desk they say at .  _ Is Jack, ah  _ _ blimey my French is rusty, is Jacque  _ _ here yet?  _ He opted to not say his last name, first name basis implied previous acquaintance.  _ I have a meeting with him, rather nervous may I say. _

The receptionist smiled brightly, he quite reminded Bond of Q. He wore a similar  cardigan, and while the receptionist dark skin was different, they had a similar look, it was probably the glasses. Bond continues to play up is awkward yet sincere look , it usually works.

_ I see no appointment here, _ __ the receptionist doesn’t seem confrontational, perhaps Bond can swing this .

Bond thinks he makes his face look  troubled; Q would have  simply described him as a kicked puppy. _ It was dreadfully last minute, and my re _ _ ception was truly abysmal, perhaps it didn’t take. _

The receptionist looks back at the office behind him, it was more ceremonious he could not see through the frosted glass. _ His schedule is open now, perhaps he’ll see you _ _.  _ He sighs,  _ Go on back. _

Bond flashes his teeth in a grin and patted the table glancing down at the name tag for the first time.  It reads  Esa Lucas.  _ Thank you very much,  _ _ Mr. Lucas _ _.  _ And sure, he may have been flirting, purely harmlessly. All for the mission , all for the mission and a little fun. Flirting was  fun and easy, it made his performance more  believable . And he certainly couldn’t deny that  Esa was incredibly attractive.

As he passed the desk, he winked at Esa . He opened the door quietly,  quickly flooded with the noise of someone on a heated phone call. He closed the door silently behind him and stood tall.  He needed to be on the  defensive with  Jacque , an immovable object to his  unstoppable  force . Jacque  was smaller, more lean - almost scrawny \- but he was deadly . He was known for a killer defense, literally. He’d wear out an  opponent, dodge and block all the blows until his opponent was weak enough to give him and advantage in the fight.

Bond knew the exits in the building, and all in the room, he rechecked the windows . The room being sound proof could be seen as a disadvantage or an advantage . He hoped to take it as an advantage .

“Oui,” a pause, “ oui , au re voir.” He hung up the phone, never breaking eye contact with Bond. “I do not have an appointment today, clearly you charmed  Esa into letting you in here, you will not have the same luck with me.” 

Jacque  made no motion for Bond to sit, so he didn’t, he followed Jacque with predatory eyes. Jacque positioned himself behind his desk, he did not sit either. 

“What are you here for? What do you want?”

“I’m here about your employer.” Bond spoke with a stern voice, no flirtatious cadence, just business.

“His office is in Florida, I’m afraid he is not available at this time. I could take a message, or set you up with a  phone number.” Putting up the front of a business person was boring to hi m. Bond could see it.

“Your  _ other  _ employer. Goes by the name  L'épéiste , ring any bells?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! I'm gonna have some backstory stuff coming soon! Drop a comment if you enjoyed.


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